


Artistic Passion

by alexandriaa



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Andrés The Single Icon, Daniel (Denver) might have small interest towards Martín, F/M, High School Drama, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Martín has a crush on Andrés, Sergio loves Raquel, enjoy, except Andrés is an art teacher in his late 20s, im just tryna not make it cringy ok, we stan these two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexandriaa/pseuds/alexandriaa
Summary: Follosa gives him a quick, forceful look.“I remember that you were at school the last time.” He says, his eyes pinned on him.Follosa smirks, as he sees that Martín is clearly clueless.“I— I dont know.” Martín stummers.Martín could see something extraordinary in his eyes.Something like, lust and interest.But no, eh, scratch that. He thought. My mind is prolly just making that up.“So... I see that you clearly did not pay attention in my class. And that is, Berrote, ignorant. I will remember that.” He says it in a deep, silky tone, but yet is smirking.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote, Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina, Rio | Aníbal Cortés/Tokyo | Silene Oliveira, berlermo - Relationship
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

Martín wasnt really looking forward towards his first day of high school as a freshman.  
Even though he’s already learned, that he’s the oldest out of all the kids from his class, seventeen, it didn’t make it better.  
Martín wasnt really a people person.  
He always thought that all he needed was himself.  
And that was true.  
Well, until today, it has been the same.

Martín expected this first day to be the same like all of the first school days before.  
But this time it was different.  
But he didn’t know that yet.

He says bye to his mother and jumps onto the bus, putting headphones asap as he could.  
Music really was what was keeping him still alive.  
It was the formula. La música.

When he finally gets into the building, out of the crowd, and finds where his class is, he hurries to get the best place in the back of the class, sitting alone in desk.  
But all of these were already taken.  
The only one was in the middle, so he goes there.

The day was pretty much boring and the same as always.  
Just getting to know all the classmates, such as Agata, Silene, Daniel, Aníbal.  
They were more kids of course, but these were the only ones that Martín got actually close to.

And about the teachers?  
Its usually the same.  
Boring ones, actually very hyped ones, strict ones, and ones that were just blind (especially when someone was cheating during an exam.)  
But there was a one teacher that was special.  
His surname was De Follosa.  
Martín didn’t get to know his name yet, but he was keen to soon find out.  
Follosa could be around his late 20s, Martín thought. An interesting art teacher.  
A tall, darker type. Black hair, deep set eyes just as dark as the hair, olive-caramel skin tone, a chiseled nose and molded lips.  
Beatiful, Martín thought.  
And his personality - just as eccentric as his own looks.  
Attractive.  
He was dressed in a black suit, which was quite a contrast compared to all the other teachers that were dressed quite casually.  
Martín liked that.  
Martín didn’t like the fact that he stared at the teacher.  
He didn’t even like the fact that he caughted him by the eye.  
Martin thought that being attracted to teachers is a cheap girl fantasy that he really didn’t want to be a part of, so he forces himself to look away.  
He didn’t even want anyone to notice.  
But Agata, always sensitive to details, saw his interest in the teacher.  
So she slightly Banks him in the arm, whispering to his ear. “Interesting Follosa is, isnt he?” Martin sees the smirk forming on her face, which causes him to burst his face red.  
And that pretty much confirmed Agata’s suspicion.  
She gives him a look full of, I know, you dont have to try to hide your interest. Its clear.

Martín is pissed.  
First freaking day and Nairobi already knows.  
She was actually the only female that he respected from the class, but now he knew that he should be more careful with her.

“No. He’s just a casual teacher. Nothing interesting about him.” Martín frowns.  
Agata tickes her tongue and shakes her head.

Fuck, she knows. She already knows what I dont even know yet. What the hell do I gone do now?

Martín slightly panics and forces himself to ignore him for the rest of the hour.

But, the reality was, Martín couldnt stop thinking about the elder.  
The way he was fascinated about what he was talking about, the way his eyes would light up each time he was talking about one of his favorite painters.  
He loved art, he was an art teacher.  
An art teacher.  
Well, Martín did not really like art and he was not really good at it either.  
All he managed to draw were some stick figures and a weird looking flower.  
Plus, he thought it was incredibly boring.  
But, in fact, De Follosa is who made it better. A little spicier, at least.

What bothered Martin though it was the fact that he could only see him twice a week during the art subject, and sometimes on the halls of the school.  
That wasnt really pleasant to Martín.  
And each time he’d see his face, the more he was attracted to him.  
Until he would end up imagining him naked. But thats, well, part of the process.

But was about a week later, on Wednesday, when Follosa called him out to answer a question about an artist that he was talking about the last hour (and whic they should have been taking notes. Martín did take notes, but they very very terse.)  
Martín’s jaw tightens, and face gets a little pale.  
He did not expect to be chosen to speak, so far he never talked during the subjects, but he did talk with his smaller circle (but that was because they are basically forcing him to socialize with them.)  
And as a bonus, Martín had to idea what to answer.  
Follosa gives him a quick, forceful look.  
“I remember that you were at school the last time.” He says, his eyes pinned on him.  
Follosa smirks, as he sees that Martín is clearly clueless.  
“I— I dont know.” Martín stummers.  
Martín could see something extraordinary in his eyes.  
Something like, lust and interest.  
But no, eh, scratch that. He thought. My mind is prolly just making that up.  
“So... I see that you clearly did not pay attention in my class. And that is, Berrote, ignorant. I will remember that.” He says it in a deep, silky tone, but yet is smirking.

But he does a good job at ignoring him for the rest of the day, and for Martin, it feels terrible.  
And who else would it be, than Silene picking up the fact during lunch on to humiliate him.  
“Sooo Martín...” Silene starts, a big evil smile forming on her face, “You really messed it up with the arts guy, didn’t you? Well, not trying to be mean, but I dont think that you will win his heart this way.” She chuckles and Agátha smiles.  
And then Daniel laughs.  
That fucking laugh.  
Martín frowns. “Stop it, Silene. I dont care about him. Arts is boring. And who the hell knows about Caravaggio anyway?”  
Silene clicks tongue. “Well, I did.”  
Silene and Agata laugh, looking at him.  
“Besides... you actually are going to have to meet him on Friday again. And dont even think of skipping the class.”  
Nairobi chuckles.

Oh, Friday, right. Wednesday and Friday are the only days when arts is part of the subject schedule. 

“Fuck you all.” Martín chuckles a little, picking up his stuff.  
“Where you going, arts boy?” Daniel pinches his arm.  
“Away from you all.” 

Martín spends the rest of the day alone, dreaming of scenarious that will never happen.

How could I crush on him so easily?  
I never knew I was capable of this, especially with an arts teacher.

Martín’s frustrated.  
He grabs his bag and decides to do the homework for arts, hoping it would get him off the thoughts about Follosa.  
But... where is my book?

And then he remembers.  
He forgot it and left it in his desk as he was trying to escape to avoid Follosa’s gaze.

Oh fuck me.

What was worse, was the fact, that the homework has to be done in the book and its due Friday.  
And really, if he doesnt want to mess it up with him, he really should go for that book.

So he gets up and leaves the flat, knowing he will actually have to walk, because the school buses dont go after 4:15 pm.  
The cherry on top of the fucking cake.

When he finally reaches the school, the guy in the lodge of the school stops him.  
“You’re lucky boy, I was just about to leave. You wouldnt have gotten inside.”  
“Um, okay, thanks.” Martín says, avoiding his look.  
He didn’t feel like socializing.  
He runs the stairs and reaches the arts class.  
He burts the door open, going to his desk.  
“Oh, hello.” A silky voice says from behind.

Martín recognized that voice so easily.  
Who else would it be, than fucking Follosa.

He smiles as Martín’s eyes stop at him aback.  
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”  
“I did not either.” He grabs his book.  
“Oh, so Thats why you’re here. You want to the homework, dont you?” He smirks again.  
Martín sighes, trying to block the sensation that the smirk sends down his spine.  
“Yeah.”  
“I see.” He says, and walks towards him.  
They are now quite close.  
He pats him on the shoulder. “I see that you’re trying to let me forgive you. Keep going.” He says, this lusty look in his eyes again, and this time, he wasnt trying to hide it.  
“You know, actually...” he continues talking. “Ive been thinking. See, the drawing you students worked on today... everybody did quite well, since, you had the freedom to choose what you’re going to draw, based off the word “extraordinary.” But eh, your drawing, Berrote, was not so good. I dont think you’ve put enough effort. I dont like people like that. But I do think that you have potential.”  
Martín looks at him.  
“Whats your name, Berrote?”

Martín stops breathing for a second, showing a quite surprised face.  
“Relax, boy, Im not trying to kidnap you. Im just curious.”  
“Well.. its Martín.”  
“Okay Martín. You know, I thought, that I could teach you how to draw, in case you were interested. Lets see... meeting after school like this, every Wendesday?”  
“That— Thats very kind of you sir, but I cant afford tutorings.” Martín says, looking down his shoes.  
Follosa gives him a long look.  
He thinks.  
“You know, Im not a profesional. It would be for free, just like, a half an hour.”

Martín is now taken very aback.  
Hearing this from him, after he did not pay attention in class? What?

“Yeah, that sounds good.”  
The art did not sound good, but meeting Follosa... yeah, Martín was all in.  
“Okay so.. see you on Wednesday.” He stops for a moment. “You had to walk back here, right? The school bus dont ride now, does it?” Follosa looks at him.  
“Yeah..”  
“How long is it to your home by walking?”  
“About an hour.”  
“What?”  
“Well, I was mostly running.”  
Which perfectly explained Martín looking like he just ran a marathon.  
“Look... I can drive you home.”

Martín is speechless.  
Is he hearing correctly?

“Of course... only if you’d want.” Follosa says, reacting to Martin’s surprised and very confused face.  
“Oh-tthat would be very nice of you.”

And Thats how Martín ended up being guided towards Follosa’s car, still clearly speechless.

The car was luxury, dark black (obviously) matte, an expensive brand.  
Where does he get so much money from?  
The teacher’s salary doesnt certainly seen like that much to afford Clothing and a car like this.

He carefully steps into the car, deciding whether it wasnt offensive to sit next to Follosa’s driver seat.  
Follosa sees his unceintanity.  
“You can sit whether you want.”

Martín gives him instructions where to drive to drive him home.  
Martín cant help it but to stare at him from time to time.  
The way he was focused on the driving, the way his hands were gripping the heel slightly, the way he was jamming to the upbeat jazz music he had put on.

“Soo... what are your interests, Martín?”  
“I- I like to write, actually. Reading and playing video games, too. About the writing - dont usually tell anyone, I think I suck at it.  
Hanging out with my close friends circle.  
I’m not a really people person, you know.”  
Follosa nods.  
“Interesting.”  
“What are yours?”  
“Well, painting mostly. Writing too, it seems like we have something in common, “ He looks away from the road and gives Martín a short cheerful smile.  
“And you know, being with people I like. I also like movies and acting. I studied an acting high school actually. I acted in a couple of movies.” He laughs.  
So this is where he got the money from.  
“That’s very cool! Why did you not continue with you career?”  
“Well, you know, so far they didn’t want me anymore, I thought I was done. Besides, it wasn’t exactly something I would like to do for the rest of my life. I’ve always loved painting. So here I go.”  
“Thanks for sharing this with me.” Martín says politely.

They soon arrive at the old, grey building, in which one of the flat’s is Martin’s home.  
Suddenly, Martin feels embarrassed for living in such a poor place.  
But Follosa didn’t hint anything about it.  
“So, this is my home. You can stop here. Thanks a lot.”  
“You’re welcome, Martín.” He puts his hand on his arm quickly and smiles at him.  
Martín pays the smile back.

Martín is now back at his home, working on the homework.  
He was the only one that receiwed a HW, about Caravaggio, as some sort of punishment for not knowing.  
He has to write an essay about him, and its pretty boring.  
But what can he do?  
He didn’t want to be embarrassed again.

His fingers tap on the notebook, creating setentences quite fast.

He is soon, after like two hours, finally done.

He goes to bathroom after he prints the paper and glued it into the book. 

He washes his face and takes a long, hot shower.  
He is home alone, and the hot water tapping on his skin is doing a good job of relaxing him.  
Then, the same feeling that he experienced with Follosa in class, goes back again, and brings him back to his sences, but way more intense.

Fuck. this.

He knew this wrong.  
But he still felt the tensity down there.  
He did not like this.  
He hated this.

How am I supposed to go to school again, feeling like this towards him?

~~~

The rest of the week was... well, to put it simply, awful.  
But on Friday, that has changed.

Follosa liked his essay, he even looked like he actually forgave him for what he did the last hour.  
And he asked him if he really counts on meeting on Wednesday after school.

So, Martín, obviously excited, went back to Agata and told her (which was a mistake, as he soon found out.) 

As usual, during school lunches with these idiots always something uncomfortable to Martín happens.  
Thanks to señora Silene, mainly. 

“Sooo, Martín,” she starts speaking, that well known smile forming again, “we’re hosting a small inner circle tonight at Agáta’s place. Are you in?”  
Martin stops for a moment.  
“Only us?”  
“Only us, trust me.”

Martin wasn’t sure. He has heard this like these, and then it ended up being half of school in the school.

“I- I’m not sure.”  
“C’mon, don’t be a pussy, I swear it will only be us, buddy.” Daniel laughs, and halfway hugs him.  
Martín sighs. “Okay then.” 

And actually, Martin was wrong.  
It actually was only the known inner circle, at the big house of Agáta’s.  
Her parents were away for the weekend, and she obviously told them it’s going to be a “small dinner with female friends” kind of a thing. Sounds like her though.

Martín needed to get wasted.  
They all sit on a couch.  
“Should we start classy or should we just jump into it and party like the Russians?” Agáta asks, heading to the kitchen.  
“PARTY!” Silene screams, scaring everyone, Aníbal, her boyfriend, mainly.  
“Babe, you scared me.” He laughs.  
“Well, you should be prepared for tonight.” She gives him a lusty look, putting her hand on his thigh, kissing him afterwards.  
Martín sighs with disguist.  
“Oh, the lovebirds.” Daniel nods with understanding towards Martin, “You should keep it quiet tonight.”  
“And you should get a girlfriend, sneaky bugger.”  
“I ain’t no bugger.” Daniel frowns.  
“Yeah, babe, don’t be mean at my friend.”  
Silene looks at him with passion and power.  
“So here, five orange vodkas!” Agáta puts the glasses on the table.  
Like Agáta said, it’s vodka with orange soda, which was an effective and quick way of getting yourself drunk.  
“Plus, it’s not some cheap vodka, I stole this one from my dad,” Agáta smirks, “It’s brand pure russian high brand vodka.”  
“It won’t be trouble?” Aníbal feels suspicious.  
“No, dad won’t notice,” Agáta says, adds “hopefully” silently.

The group is slowly getting drunk, Daniel making bad jokes (alright, some of them were funny) Silene kissing Aníbal nonstop, and Agáta talking about her future career all the time.  
The only one silent was Martín, wishing Follosa would be here. 

But even Martín after a while got drunk too, and joined the conversation.  
Then Agata got to speak.  
“Well, Martín, I think its time we tell you something.  
Us, as a group, like to call us by city names. Actually, the physics profesor, Marquina, came up with it, during one of is physics group tutorings. We all go there. He calls himself “El Profesor”. I, Agatha, Im Nairobi. Silene is Tokio. Daniel is Denver. And Aníbal is Rio. What will be yours? You dont necessarily need to be part of the tutoring though. But anyone who wants to be part of us has to have a nickname.”  
Martín frowns.  
“Maybe that why your guys inner circle is so small. I aint a kiddo to play games like this with you all.” Martín says openly because of the effect of alcohol.  
“Well, then-“ Silene cuts herself off, showing Martín a fuck you symbol with her hand.  
“Listen, Martín. Lemme ask you. Do you know Follosa’s first name?”  
“I dont. And i dont care.”  
“Oh c’mon arts boy, we all know that you’re super horny about him. Dont lie.” Silene smirks at him.  
Martín sighs. “Okay then. Care to tell me?”  
“Not until you agree to choose a city name. C’mon. Its just a nickname.”  
Martín does a long sigh.  
“Okay.” He thinks for a bit. “My city name will be Palermo.”  
“Good, Palermo. Nice choose. Follosa’s first name is Andrés. Andrés De Follosa.”  
“Thanks. Where do you know it from? What, you flirted with him and asked him?”  
“I wouldnt stood that low,” Nairobi laughs, “I asked out main teacher. Murillo. Shes a friend of his.”  
“Oh, okay.”  
Martín then realized, that he could be done that too. But maybe Murillo wouldnt tell him. It would also seem... weird.  
Besides, he liked Palermo.  
“Also, Palermo... I think you should let like... I think you should hint to Follosa that you like him. Not tell him that you love him yet, but like, that you’re interested.” Tokio says, looking at him.  
“You’re right...” Palermo says, thinking.

They all continued to drink, and when they were really drunk, they decided to play a kiss game.  
Someone turns the bottle and at which person the bottle lands, the person has to kiss them.  
And thats how Palermo kissed Nairobi, Rio, Tokio (which was a quick almost not even a peck) and then he imitated throwing up (which he almost actually did) and made the whole group laugh for like, the first time. And then Denver kissed him, and the kiss was quite passionate, and the group noticed that.  
“Hey Denver, are you sure you’re not a bugger? Yes, you are sneaky, Thats for sure, but you denied the gay part. Besides, Palermo doesnt do coochies, so-“  
“Shut.up.” Denver gives her an icy cold killer look and grabs her arm firmly.  
Rio unusually looks badass now. “If you keep holding my girlfriend’s arm, I will fuck you up. No one cares if he comes in the middle of the night, Daniel. But that prolly won’t be the case. He seems interested in someone else.”  
Denver gives him a way worse look than he gave Tokio and stops gripping her arm.  
“Mind.your.own.business.next.time.” Denver gives her a cold look one last time and sits back again. 

“Guys, I think Im done for tonight.” Martín says, grabing his bag.  
“C’mon, Palermo, its only two am! were still getting started.”  
“No.” Martín says sharply. “My mom is physically ill and I dont want to come home too wasted.”  
“Oh.. okay. Do you want a lift?”  
“No. No one will drive wasted, do you all hear me?”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah, I am.” Martín says, heading to the door.

Martín is now laying in bed, thinking.  
Tokio is right. He will let him know.

~~~

It is Wednesday afternoon, and Martín is sitting at his desk, waiting during the small break for Follosa to come.  
He went to his office.

He shortly comes afterwards, caring his bag in one arm, caring a book and a box with pencils and art papers.  
“Hello, Martín.” He greetes him, and heading towards him.  
He handles him a paper and the box, taking out a pencil out of it.

Everything he’s recieved was perfectly clean and taken care of. It looked expensive. Martín better try harder this time.  
“Okay so.. as I can see, you dont have much creativity or motivation. So draw me this vaze with flowers.” He puts a vaze ahead on a table. 

Martín tries his best, focused.  
But it still turns out pretty shitty.  
“I- I Tried my best.” He stummers, seeing the reaction of Follosa’s he was so much trying to hide.  
“I know,” He thinks. “Let me help you understand the subject.”

He takes a darker black pencil, lends it over to Martín and after he picks it up, he stars explaining hoe to view the subject. He takes the lightest one and draws very lightly onto the drawing a circle, and some sort of shapes as the flowers, to make it simplier.  
“See? Its easier now. You need to have it like, sorted.”  
But he still sees him struggling though.  
So he grabs his hand, squeezing it lightly, and chuckling.  
It sends shivers down the spines, of both of them.  
Martín can feel that, and so does he.  
He guides him the drawing a bit, and then he lets him finish.  
When the drawing is finished, Follosa seems satisfied.  
“Good job, Martín,” He stops for a moment, putting his hand on his arm.  
“Little by little, we will improve and move further.”  
Martín looks at him, grabs his face, and gives him a quick kiss.  
Follosa turns away.  
“Martín, you must have missunderstood me. I did not mean... this.” He chuckles, but Martín knew he wanted it, but he won’t admit it and probably never will.  
“I just did the business I thought you wanted me to do, Andrés.”  
He ignores it.  
“How do you know my name?”  
“I know, because I care about you.” Martín smiles, picking up his jacket, leaving afterwards.

The next day would typically be the same, like Martín thought, but he was very, very wrong.  
The first thing quite weird was the fact that Murillo (the main english teacher) was in the class before the first hour started, although they didn’t have english as a first subject...  
And he soon discovered why.  
“Hello, dear class.” She started speaking.  
“We are going on a school trip next week. It will be four days in nature, as a trip for everyone to get to know their classmates better. I will be going, Follosa will be going, and Sanchéz (female biology teacher) will be going. We are leaving on Monday morning. Here are the papers with more info. And also - the trip obligated, so dont even think of skipping.” She smiles at the last sentence, waiting for everyone to get a paper, and then she left. 

~~~

Monday morning.  
Martín knew what it meant.  
The trip.  
Fuck me.  
He lazily gets up from his bed and prepares himself.  
Prepare for disaster.

He is soon after sitting in a school bus, sitting next to, guess who?, no one, because he wanted calm.  
He didn’t get that either.  
Denver was fucking laughing, Nairobi being as always talkative and Tokio making offensive jokes. Rio just being too speechless of Tokio’s “beauty”.

I just want this shit to be over.  
I know these idiots already, c’mon.  
Two fucking hours takes the road. I cant.

What he didn’t know though, that the worst was yet about to come.

When they arrived to the boarding house, the class stay for s long time outside because the teachers are discussing something with the staff.  
About after half an hour, they finally come back.  
Murillo is the first one to speak.  
“So, we are very very sorry...” she starts, looking over us. “But the staff messed it up, there are rooms, each one has three beds. These all fit well except for the teachers ones. There is only  
two rooms left with two beds each, not one room two beds and the other room three beds...” she stops for a moment. “Which means, that one of you who will not have a roomate has to sleep at the same room with Follosa.”

You should all see the mess that happened. Everyone was gathering up with the first people the saw so they could avoid the suffering.

But Martín did not react on time.  
“But dont worry... it is two single beds.”  
She searches us, stopping at Martín with a firm look. “Martín, you know what that means...”

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 02

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martín opens the skicak.  
> The drawings were pretty colorful. His drawings always are, but these were made with brighter colors and more color variations.  
> The art style was the same, sometimes a little different.

Martín watches Follosa how he searches in his pocket for the keys.  
He stuffs them to the door number 7 and slew with them, swiftly opening them and coming in.  
The two watch the room for a moment, before Follosa finally speaks: "Choose your bed, I dont care."

Martín thinks for a short moment and goes to the bed located on the right side, because there is more space for his luggage (that he never really unpacks) and it feels more roomy.  
He sits on the bed.

Follosa starts unpacking his suitcase and Martín simply watches him.

He is too lazy to the same thing anyway.

The room feels big enough for the first time, but when the two people actually lay on the beds, it seems way smaller.  
He feels way closer to Andrés, sitting on it.

But when Follosa seems halfway done, Martín decides to at least take out the shoes and a jacket from his luggage, deciding to take out a couple more things.  
He puts the luggage under the bed.

They are soon called for lunch.  
Martín is relieved to see that he's sitting to a table with his casual crew.  
Everyone was there, staring at him.  
"Soo... you really got what you wanted, huh?" Tokio says.  
"What the fuck?" Palermo grins.  
"I think it was staged." Rio laughs. "Maybe he's into you."  
"Bullshit, and bullshit," Palermo hisses, "Stop talking about him. He might hear us."   
The group laughs, falling silent when the soup is served.

They pretty much ate in silence.

Martín hoped for a casual program for the rest of the day.   
But Murillo didn't seem like she would like to waste any time.

"Hello dear children, I hope you have unpacked and eaten now, because the first program of today will be a small indoor game to fully get to know each other, and then we will go out to the nature, so as you should have packed sport clothing, you will have to wear it."  
Murillo says, guiding us into a bigger room, where we all sat in a circle.

The games were pretty simple, but yet effective.  
Truth was, that Martín remembered all the names of his classmates now, finally. Mainly because he started to care now, because for these games, you needed to know them.

About an hour later all the kids are called back to their rooms, which means, more time alone with Follosa.

But he was awfully silent, hurrying clearly.  
So Martín simply changed his clothing and sat on the bed, staring at Follosa, who was reading a book, because they have got about some fifteen minutes extra time.   
Most likely a thriller, based on the cover.

"Stop staring." He hisses, giving him a sharp look.  
"Im interested in what you're reading, can I see?" Martín says, and without a reply, he quickly sits next to Follosa, looking into the book.  
Follosa's eyes widens and jaw tightens.   
He closes the book quickly and throws it onto the other side of the bed.  
He turns himself around, now looking deeply into Martín's eyes.  
"Look, Martín, let me help you understand," He starts, looking perilously.  
He didn't even have to try to look scary, it was something natural in him.  
To Martín, it was super hot.  
He felt himself getting turned on.  
"I had no intention having to share a room with a student. Especially not you. But here we are. Its not my fault that these fuckers are dumb as rocks and messed it up. They will pay for it.  
And listen, Martín. I know what are your intentions. Dont even think about trying." Follosa is now gripping his jaw, staring.  
"Got it?"

Martín just stares at him, a small smirk forming on his face.   
"Martín, Im serious. I would have never done anything with my students, its against my morals. Especially not with you."  
Martín continues to stare and then says simply: "You're such a terrible liar, Andrés."

Martín checks his phone (while Follosa is still gripping his jaw) "It's time, teacher Follosa, we have to go." Martín smiles with an evil face, receiving a slap from Andrés.   
"Wooh, is that some kind of a roleplay?"  
"Dont you ever dare to talk to me like that." Follosa frowns.  
"Like what?"  
"Like if we were close to each other."  
"Arent we?"  
"No, we're not, Berrote."  
Andrés stands up, leaving the room.

~~~

"Is that it?" Nairobi asks, excitement and disappointment in her eyes. "You two didn't even kiss again?"

Children of the class were going in groups, and Martín was in a group with his inner circle friends, walking through the forest, following signs.

"Yes, Nairobi. I told you. Basically he's trying to say that he's not interested in the same gender and that he's a good teacher."   
"Lies," Tokio mumbles, "He's lying."  
"I know," Martín sighs. "Its actually against my morals too, but I dont care. I want him."  
"What are you going to do now?" Nairobi asks.  
"I'll try my best to convince him that I'm worth the risk."   
"Good luck then, haha." Tokio says loudly to make sure everyone notices.  
"Look, Tokio, no one asked for your opinion." Palermo frowns.  
Tokio ignores it and whispers something into Nairobi's ear.

The rest of the day goes pretty much quickly.  
Martín's group succesfully followed the signs till the end without getting lost (which most of the groups did) and then being rewarded with a small prize, mostly sweets.

The children are sent back into their rooms to prepare for dinner.  
Martín feels a chill, as he's knocking at the door of his room, expecting Follosa to let him in.  
But he doesnt get any reply.  
Maybe he's asleep, Martín thinks, so after a short moment he knocks again.

But still, no answer.  
So he swiftly walks in, checking the whole room.  
Follosa wasn't here.

Martín feels disappointed, but then again more guilty by being so attached to him.  
On the other hand, it was prolly for the better. Because, right, the last time Martín saw him, Follosa left very irritated. Apparently for the right reason.

Martín changes his clothes, and brushes his teeth, since a small sink was also in the room. It didnt make sense to Martín to include a sink into a two bed room and not a proper bathroom. Either nothing or the whole package. But yes, of course he was grateful at least for the sink, because it was comfy.

After that, Martín sits on his bed, chilling for couple of minutes.  
He watches Follosa's half of the room. His bed was perfectly made, the table by his bed was covered in couple of books and a skicak.

And... you know Martín. He decided to take advantage of Follosa's current missing and to snoop a little around his stuff.  
Yes, it was indeed rude, but Martín is capable of a lot of things when he's in love.

He opens the drawer by the bed.  
There was a men frangrance by Dior, some special collection that Martín most likely saw for the first time, because he only uses ordinary colognes.  
Also his wallet was there (which Martín, thanks goodness, didnt check, by that point Follosa even might notice afterwards), and a black lashy pencil case.

Martín picks up the fragrance, and sprays a little on his wrist, smelling it.  
It reminded him of Andrés so much, like if he was standing right next to him.  
Martín smiles at that warm feeling.

Martín closes the drawer, and walks to his closet.

The clothes were mostly black, but actually, white or grey was there too, which Martín didnt expect that.   
All of the clothes were perfectly arranged and clean.  
Nothing much interesting there.  
Martín closes atand checks his watches.  
Five minutes left.

Theoretically, he should leave right away or force himself to stop, because you never know, Follosa might run into the room last minute, expecting Martín to be already gone, since he's always on time.  
Or, he might be going in too detail.

So yeah, fuck it, Martín said to himself.  
The only left unexplored was... Follosa's personal skicak.  
It might be a little confusing why Martín never checked it first.  
The truth was, well, it was a personal skicak.  
It wasnt like Follosa's art would be somehow personal.  
In fact, Follosa would never miss a chance to show off his art.  
He wanted to be an inspiration to others, in all ways possible.  
But yeah, this was different. Follosa actually talked about it once, when he and the class were discussing a scandal about their main teacher Murillo, which point was actually that someone from the class snooped around Murillo's personal diary that she forgot in the class on her desk, and by that discovering Murillo's deepest secret, and, it obviously was gossiped to the point where the whole class knew.   
Follosa and Murillo had to do a pretty hard work of making sure that it doesnt go any further.  
But let's talk about that later.

Follosa talked about how rude and how much of crossing a line of someone's privacy is seeing an artist's personal skicak or art without their permission.   
He equeled it to reading someone's diary, because the artist often includes their feelings or thoughts, trauma or overall personal things.  
So, since the scandal, Murillo started writing her thoughts down in her laptop and Follosa stopped bringing his skicak to school completely.

And that's why Martín didnt consider looking into his skicak at first. But looking at it again, Martín just felt like he should finish the job he had started.

He checks the watch again.  
Three minutes.  
This was indeed a big risk, but Martín ignored the fact.  
It really did feel weird that Follosa bringed the skicak here, and left it here, lying there, unprotected.  
Just before Martín left for the forest trip the skicak wasnt here.  
And, now it was here, and Follosa was gone.  
Maybe he simply forgot.  
But how could he? After what happened?  
What if its on purpuse?

Martín scratches the last thought in his mind, because that simply doesnt make sense.  
But he couldnt scratch the very sure feeling about it,that was telling him thats it.

Okay, lets do this.

Martín opens the skicak.  
The drawings were pretty colorful. His drawings always are, but these were made with brighter colors and more color variations.  
The art style was the same, sometimes a little different.  
First couple of pages were drawings of women, probably his ex girlfriends (or wifes?).  
They were all very pretty, dressed in expensive clothing.

And then were some casual drawings, such as a cat, a car (which Martín recognized that it was his) and garden flowers and so on.

But what Martín caught by the eye the most were the last couple of pages.

There were two people.  
One of them looked so much like him, Andrés.  
But why would he draw himself? There was no doubt that Follosa did have the ego to do something like that, but it still felt odd.

Maybe its his twin brother.  
He never mentioned he had a one, but it was possible.

And the second person... looked a lot like him.   
Martín.

How? Am I dreaming?

Martín studies the facial features carefully.  
A prominent nose, small lips, a bigger chin, the same face shape.  
And the same hair.

It was him.

Martín's heart starts speeding a little.

The first drawing was him and Follosa standing next to each other, talking.  
Follosa was handling his suitcase in one hand, lying his hand on Martín's arm with the other.

Martín thought he looked on the drawing better than in real life, that Follosa drew him a little more glow up.  
Or he sees him prettier than others.

Martín's lips curl into a smile, feeling a little sick stomach from the excitement.

He turns the page.

Next drawing is them, drawing the vase couple days ago.  
It was so beautiful, Martín could literally feel the energy from the picture he was feeling that day.

That was all.  
No more drawings since then.  
To Martín, it was more than enough though.

He closes the skicak and tries his best to make it look unrecognizable that he looked into it.

He should really hurry to dinner now.

"He WHAT? He drew fucking drawings of you two?!" Nairobi literally gasps as she's talking.  
"Well, yeah." Palermo scratches the back of his neck nervously, looking at everyone, waiting for more reactions.  
"Damn." Rio says under his breath, not sure whether he should have said that or not.

Everybody seems concerned except for Tokio.  
"Get a room, you two," Denver laughs, but there's a tint of jealousy he tried to hide but he failed at it.  
"They already have a room, just in case you havent noticed, dumbass," Tokio starts speaking, frowning at Denver, "Besides, aint you a little jealous, Denv?"  
Denver's face goes cold for a very short moment. "No. Why should I be, Tokio?"  
Tokio falls silent, decides to stop messing with Denver. She's already done enough damage, and she knows that.  
"Okay, but you should definitely make a move tonight, especially after this. The drawings and leaving the skicak today, there, just like that? I agree with you Palermo, that cant be a coincidence." Nairobi puts a sharp, convincing look on him.  
"Uhh... I want to, Nairobi, but... I dont know - today, right after what he told me? That would sound pathetic, and super clingy."  
"Well... you do have a point there, but I still feel like you should do it tonight. Look, Im not saying like, jump on him. Just make a move, and finish it tommorow night. You know, its only tonight and a one night left and we're leaving then. We already know the truth, and he knows what you want, so just finish proving it. Make him do the right choice."  
"I actually didnt plan onto involving into this, but I agree with Nairobi." Tokio says casually.  
"Martín, you were actually talking about convincing him earlier today, and suddenly after such a good news you're changing your mind. That is pathetic, Martín, that is! I believed in you, dont let me get disappointed!" Nairobi pierces her eyes on Palermo. 

Palermo sighs deeply.

"I mean... you're probably right. I just... I just find it weird that he would actually leave his skicak on purpuse after what he told me such a way he told me. You cant just- yo cant just change your mind like that. Or maybe... maybe he never actually changed his mind about it. Maybe he knew what he was going to do from the start, he just wasnt sure if he should actually do it due to the risks, and thats why he tested me like this. Maybe he wanted to see my reaction, and figure out if its worth it."  
"I love your thinking, Palermo!" Nairobi says, nodding her head as she processes what she just heard. "You know, that is what you need to find out tonight. Because if your theory is right..."   
"Yeah. I hope it is. I'll find out tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy guys !!  
> hello to you all after SUCH a long time. im here back with a new chapter!
> 
> first of all, im so sorry for taking so long to come out.  
> i had to fight a huge writers block, then the beginning of school, some other drama, and then i was sick, but now i finally finished writing this chapter! i hope you enjoyed it and let me know what you think ♡ i'll try my best to write the following chapter as soon as possible.  
> stay safe and have a nice day !

**Author's Note:**

> hello guys!!  
> im so sorry for taking this long to write something, so yeah, Im finally back with this crack fic!  
> enjoy and lemme know if you want more!!  
> love you <3
> 
> also I have a new account on wattpad called: al__xandra2 (for fanfics) and al__xandra (main, no fanfics) please go support me there! <3


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